


Call It Luck You See It

by NebulaWandersTheStars



Series: Nebula's Tales of Ducktales! [6]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: ...beak bleed?, Blood, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Carrying, Conversations, Fourth Wall, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Lucky Gladstone Gander, Magical Exhaustion, Monsters, Passing Out, Post The Phantom and the Sorceress!, Traps, author isnt good at endings, collapse, his luck is very bad with pacing, i do love bullying gladstone dont i, i guess, i guess u could call this magic au?, i guess you could call this whump if u tried hard enough???, i think its more of just me exaggerating gladdie's luck, i think thats a fitting tag, luck, me @ gladstone: my son, me later @ gladstone: u r being bullied, nose bleeds, nothing graphic bc i am not a bitch, scrooge needs to stop letting these four adventure solo, sorta - Freeform, u can thank my sister for enabling my pun titles, uhhh hiding an injury sorta?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 09:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebulaWandersTheStars/pseuds/NebulaWandersTheStars
Summary: Gladstone doesn't like putting in effort, and keeping his cousins from getting themselves killed takes a lot of effort.
Relationships: Della Duck & Donald Duck & Fethry Duck & Gladstone Gander, Duck Family & Gladstone Gander, Gladstone Gander & Scrooge McDuck
Series: Nebula's Tales of Ducktales! [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908133
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77





	1. Tuckered Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladstone won't tell anyone, but he's quite the expert at making sure his cousins are safe.

Luck is a very fickle thing. Gladstone had never liked putting effort in to anything; he wasn't used to working his luck like this. (Hell, he wasn't used to _working.)_

So, as Donald snarls at a monster and as the trap Della had triggered whirs menacingly, Gladstone flicks his hands out and mutters an aggravated ode to Lady Luck.

The goose seals his eyes briefly, the world around him muffling as he willed his luck to work with him and keep his family safe. He scowls, his eyes still shut tight, static prickling under his feathers and pinning them on end. He's never liked the side effects of working his luck. (He's gonna have a nasty headache later, he just knows it.)

The sparks of green in his mind settle, his luck growing somewhat dormant as he opens his eyes. Sounds become clear again, though they're tucked behind a ringing he doesn't much care for. He shakes his head, his feathers flicking wildly before he rolls a hand through them and settles them nicely back to where they should be.

Gladstone stretches his arms and cracks his knuckles, the blurry shapes steadily sharpening into his cousins. The trap is still whirring, and as his gaze flicks he finds that the beast Donald had been attacking has fallen. His wish would take a minute to take effect, and the moment it did everything would be fine- yup, there it goes. The trap clicks a few times as it shuts down, and the door at the other end of the chamber opens.

"Got it!" Della calls, her voice triumphant.

A sharp grin overtakes his beak as Gladstone struts toward the exit, doing his best not to stumble even as the room shifts in his vision. His cousins are quicker to get there, Fethry having already been standing decently close to the door; Della fueled with excitement from stopping the trap; and Donald just eager to get out of the hellhole of a temple.

Gladstone makes it to the door and steps through, quickly shifting to lean a hand against the wall of the new hallway they stood in. He flicks his tongue out at the idea of working _more,_ internally groaning.

___Della paces into the room with steady, confident strides, her eyes sparkling- oh no, wait, that panel is moving, and there's another trap!_ _ _

___"Phooey," she mutters, looking down to glare at the unmarked panel._ _ _

___"Bunch'a people built this and didn't even have the decency to label their traps." The goose's arms cross against his chest and he huffs, before Donald shoves him to the front of the group._ _ _

___"You go first."_ _ _

___The goose turns his head to glare at his tempermental cousin, before closing his eyes and sighing. He cracks his knuckles and struts ahead, willing his luck (with marginally less force than last time) to keep him and his cousins out of trouble. Green specks flick across his vision and he scowls softly, blinking them away. With how his luck worked, he wouldn't just be able to rely on it blindly after wishing like that- it'd get into more trouble; even if it made sure they survived it would just be a pain in the pinfeathers the green-clad cousin would rather not deal with._ _ _

___There is something wet on his beak. How did it get there?_ _ _

___Gladstone reaches up to rub at where the gross wet was, scrubbing at it before pulling his hand away to inspect it. Blood sits on his fingers, and he scowls further. (His luck shouldn't have been that exhausted already, right?)_ _ _

___Widening his stride somewhat, the goose goes back to traversing the hall, internally hoping (but not wishing) that his cousins didn't notice the falter. They seem a little busy with tracing his steps to focus on his bloody beak, anyway. One of the panels he steps on alights with blue and the door at the end of the hall swings open._ _ _

___Gladstone scrubs the blood from his beak to turn and grin at his cousins, hoping he looked smug. He turns back a little too quick, the room continuing to turn even as his head stops and the same stupid green blossoming in his eyes. He grumbles again under his breath, his head pounding harshly._ _ _

___"Gladstone, move a little faster!" Donald barks, and the goose has to bite back a flinch as the quack rolls through his head. Gladstone shakes his head, but does pick up the pace, despite the fact that there is still blood dripping down his beak._ _ _

___Minutes pass and Gladstone finds himself struggling immensely to keep his legs under him._ _ _

___Donald makes a bunch of annoyed noises and sprints forward, shouting about how he wanted to get out of here. One of the panels he steps on glows red, and then another, and before the cousins can catch up the ground splits open. Gladstone's arms shoot out and the green covers his vision as he wills desperately for Donald to be okay. His hands are shaking and his breath is caught, pain buzzing in his fingers. He stands a little straighter as the green recedes slightly, and he makes out the shape of Donald unharmed on the other side of the pit as it seals itself. Della and Fethry are on either side of the hole, both pressed to either wall._ _ _

___"Oh thank Hades," Gladstone mutters, putting his head in his hands (if it was just to hide the bloody beak- well, his cousins didn't need to know that.)_ _ _

___"C'mon Gladdy!" Fethry calls, "Let's get out'a here!"_ _ _

___Gladstone looks up to see his cousins speeding their way to the exit. Well, briefly, and then his vision blurs and they become nothing more than shapes. Black and green dots quickly sprawl across his vision, his ears beginning to ring again._ _ _

___"Hey, c-can we," the goose shudders, his voice shaky as he tries to make sure his cousins can hear him, "c-can we slow d-down a l-little..." His voice trails as his legs give out and he falls, darkness overtaking him._ _ _

___"What, can your luck not keep up?" Donald taunts, before he pokes his head back into the previous room. "Gladstone?"_ _ _

___"Is he okay?" Fethry asks from behind Donald, also trying to poke his head in._ _ _

___"Lucky loafer," the sailor snarls, before raising his voice so his cousin could hear him, "Get up, you layabout, we're almost out!"_ _ _

___"Gladdy?" Fethry calls from over Donald's head._ _ _

___"To quote Fethry, is he okay??" Della looks between the exit of the temple and the door to the pit room, before her gaze settles on the exit. "It's Uncle Scrooge!"_ _ _

___"I'll go get him up," Donald grumbles, slipping into the trapped room. Fethry takes up his cousin's previous spot in the doorway, concern etched across his face as he fiddles with his beanie._ _ _

___Donald stands over Gladstone for a few seconds, his hands on his hips. "Gladstone?"_ _ _

___He drops to his knees and pokes his half-goose cousin, scowling all the while. The sailor picks the goose up by the shoulders, watching as his head lolls with no resistance. Donald lifts Gladstone's head, noticing and gently wiping the bloody beak, before he carefully opens Gladstone's eye to look at his pupils- only to find that he has no pupils, his eyes clouded over with a gently glowing green._ _ _

___Startled, Donald removes his hand from his cousin's eye, panic steadily overtaking the duck's face. "That can't be good. Listen, just stay breathing and we'll get you to Uncle Scrooge." He reaches up to scoop his cousin into his arms, carrying the goose. "You should still wake up though. I don't want to haf'ta carry you all the way out'a here."_ _ _

___(Donald has some trouble getting out of the pit room, because Gladstone is quite a bit taller than the door is wide, and he'll probably wake up with a bruise or two on his leg where Donald ran him into the wall. Fethry makes sure he doesn't have that problem while getting on the plane, or into the Manor.)_ _ _


	2. Lucky to Have 'Em

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Effort is a pain, but it pays off sometimes.

Fethry's half-asleep when Gladstone wakes up, barely registering it before his green-clad cousin shoots up and he falls over.

"Easy, Gladdy!" The scientist launches back to his feet and raises his hands in a way that was almost defensive, soothingly smiling.

"Good morning, laddie." Scrooge remarks, perched on a chair in the corner. Gladstone's frightened gaze pauses on his uncle, and then between all of his cousins, still tense and pressed against the headboard. Donald sleepily glares at him and Della waves.

"Wh- what happened???"

"You passed out," Della informs, "Your eyes were glowing green. Donald was worried about you, it was really weird."

"Aye. We thought you'd been cursed, lad," The rich uncle's brow is furrowed in concern, and Gladstone decides that he never wants to be on the receiving end of that worry again. "...you weren't cursed, right?"

The goose shakes his head. 

"Do you have magic?!?" Dewey asks, his head poked in from the hallway.

"Webbigail said your eyes were glowing the same color as your luck," Violet moves Dewey out of the way to open the door further, revealing all of the children, "And Lena said you were exhibiting signs of magic exhaustion."

"Uh- well, sorta, I guess?" Gladstone flattens himself further against the wall, feeling incredibly cornered.

"Magic..." Scrooge grumbles, and Lena raises an eyebrow at him. Donald gives him a look and Scrooge apologizes to the magical teenager, albeit under his breath.

"So, is it your luck?" Huey asks, his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook open and a pen hovering above the page. Webby mouths an apology, and Lena appears to be facepalming. Dewey is rambling about an interview for more views and Louie is idly scrolling through his phone, though by the way his gaze keeps flicking up from it he's at least somewhat interested in what's going on. Violet, like Huey, has a journal out and is scribbling in it.

Gladstone would like to reiterate that he feels very cornered. 

Fethry seems to notice the goose's panic and smiles sheepishly at him before whispering something to Donald. The sailor whispers something back, much more aggressive than his cousin. 

"Laddie, just what were ya doing to pass out like that?" Scrooge asks, his eyes narrowed at Gladstone.

"Keeping my cousins alive, maybe?" responds the goose, still pressed against the wall. 

"And so you knocked yourself out?" Donald's gaze flicks from Fethry to Gladstone, though his eyes are filled with a lot more concern than his voice.

"You don't have room to talk, Don," Della chuckles, "Blastin' past Gladstone like that- _wait." ___

__Scrooge's gaze narrows and flickers between the cousins, turning his head toward the door without looking away. "Kids, I have ta have a word with Gladstone," he informs pointedly. Donald squints and his brow furrows, but he does stand to leave; Della follows close behind._ _

__"Uh," Fethry sputters at the door, before smiling sheepishly, "you know where to find us when you're done!"_ _

__The door clicks shut, leaving Gladstone and Scrooge alone. The former gulps and slides a little away from his uncle, while the latter continues to glare skeptically._ _

__"I-I'm guessin' I should... explain, huh?" The goose's voice is hesitant, briefly making eye contact before looking elsewhere. His uncle does nothing but nod._ _

__"Uh, it's sorta- well, if I try hard enough I can kinda, like, make my luck do stuff?" Gladstone really hopes his point is clear, even though his voice wobbles uncertainly. "It's... a lot of work." He sticks his tongue out in mock disgust, glad to see Scrooge's beak quirk in a smile- if only for a moment. "I panicked an' I guess I wished a little too hard."_ _

__"For being a lucky layabout 99% of the time," the Scot remarks, his face going from fierce to something almost playful, "you'll do a lot to keep your family safe."_ _

__There's a beat of silence, mostly because Gladstone had no idea how he should respond to this._ _

__"T-thank... you?" He tries, confusion on his face and in his voice, which quickly becomes an only-slightly-uncomfortable laugh._ _

__Scrooge laughs along, standing. "Your welcome. Now, get some more rest, lad; I'll send your cousins back in."_ _

__"Sure thing, Unk," Gladstone settles back into his bed, smirking. The light clicks off as his uncle leaves, and his smile shifts from sarcastic to soft._ _

__(The contentedness is evident on his beak even as he drifts off.)_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo-oo!!!


End file.
